critique 2

I think that Haiku, and Senryu as a form of poetry can be interesting in many ways. There are some things about Senryu that are very interesting and more variable than the Haiku, but I think that my favorite thing about these forms is the several forms of bastardization of this poetry. Haiku and Senryu are great styles for poetic humor and slight changing of the rules. Maybe instead of 5, 7, 5 lining, you have 3 or 4 at the end, but I think that these poems are great when focused on a specific theme. The best Haiku sequences I have read were off a hippie jam band forum that my friend sent me over thanksgiving, they were all ridiculously inappropriate but still well written. My favorite one was about a hippie who was dosed on acid during thanksgiving, when they carve the turkey, it appears still alive to the hallucinating hippie. This was something that showed me a very funny and interesting dynamic for a simple form of poetry like the haiku.

Exercise 7

In the back of a dimly lit cigar bar, the sound of the New Orleans Saints is barely audible over the cries of countless people ooh-ing and ah-ing. People sit and draw up clouds of heavy smoke as the disappointment over the game ebbs and flows, we know that the home team is under the gun, and a win seems very unlikely. The only other recognizable noise is the clink and clank of pool balls banking off rails and rolling down tracks back into the pool table housing. As two gentleman continually run the pool table like it's their job, a challenger throws his quarters down and takes his place at the table. Long shots bounce off the table and into the pockets, as the crowd moans and groans. The game looks to be over, a bang from the pool table rings and the crowd sighs and hollers. somebody shouts out, "Ok, everybody go home now." It's all over, football is done for the night, six picks and a few plays later, it's finished. Two men shake hands, the challenger has won, and a loss is notched for the home team.

critique 4

Perhaps the thing that scares me most about graduating is the fact that I will be thrust into the real world to find an actual job that will kickstart my career. Finding a job shouldn't be too difficult though, thanks to technology...
Technology is a scary thing though. Future employers can view everything that you have ever posted or someone has posted about you in less than a day. Scary, huh?  Despite how creepy this is, the creepiest thing about the future to me is robots... What if people become so over-involved and consumed by societal issues and triviality, that they in fact are nothing more than mere robots. I have never really been that interested in technology but, the threat it poses to society in our more and more technologically advanced lives, frightens me.

exercise 11

Living down here I see a lot of strange people. The sad old man with the hat who wears an advertisement sign like a coat. The insane homeless man who screams at himself while sitting on the ground by the shell station. These people are the extreme cases, there are many more just like them, only maybe just a little bit more sane. There are a whole bunch of whoadies everywhere in New Orleans, sometimes I hear them hollering, "Sayy, boh! ya gotta Joe?", but sometimes they just walk around and flash the golden freckling in their dentals. But really though, most people who live in New Orleans are crazy, or at least as nuts as me, thats why I follow this quote when I assess who's really a crazy person, "just cuz ya got gold teeth, that don't make ya the enemy. Everybody with dreads, they ain't down for the cause". So basically, you can't just judge somebody on how ridiculous they look down here, well you can, but you might be sorely mistaken. Also don't trust nobody who tells you they have a gun in their waist, if they had one they wouldn't be needin' to tell you about it. And if they do have one, you're supposed to keep it in your glovebox.

Exercise 9- Recollection of things I never knew

Walking down the street, never mind that. Instead, it started out me driving down Freret. Parking, locking the car, getting out. Then I head inside the house, and throw my keys down, take a sip of some whiskey and coke, and announce, "My keys are staying here tonight!".
     Down we ride to St. Claude, Saturn Bar, Dragons Den, Saturn Bar, Corner-store....
Ride back home.....Clouds, weird smells, scrapes and cuts. Cuts and scrapes, and keys, lots of keys.
Hieroglyphics and strange symbols etched into my dented Sonata. Who done it? I don't know, but they aren't great at drawing.

exercise 8- freewriting

    Stranded in another country, some people might call that a nightmare but for others that might be a vacation. Dec 3rd 2012, right in the middle of Argentina but not really sure what city you are in. Couldn't be Buenos Aires, no not big enough. A suburb maybe? Well that's not the point.
    
   Walking around, there are people everywhere, people shouting, shaking people down. Paranoia is at a peak, the world is going to end you know, somehow that's what people want to know. Traveling to South America to see the ruins of great Earth, in its last of days. The planet may not explode but its going to be kaput real soon. Everybody's talking about it, and you're here stranded in foreign lands. By yourself, but being alone isn't so bad if the worlds going to end.

Straight to the nearest cliff on a valley to watch the world go out, that's a show that you've gotta pay your whole life to get a prime seat.

Atwood's poem, this is a photograph of me uses an interesting technique. Because this title describes to us an image we get to read or hear what the writer wants us to. When I was doing my poem modeled off of it, I felt as if I had control over exactly how the audience viewed it. They didn't know what the photograph looked like, so description let them know what it was exactly. Describing a situation for someone is an interesting topic for writing, you can never be sure if the story is fictional or just so unbelievable but still true. especially in poetry, because interpretation gives the story more presence and reality.

my photograph

That's me in my photograph
 Yeah, in the sombrero Actually its a photograph
 of a painting and the painting is a stylized adaptation
of a picture

There are some trees and greenery behind me,
I'm in a rain forest I teleported there
 from my bathroom
The secret is in the sombrero.

When Ed sent me there I felt out of place
until I realized he sent a lemur to guide me

traveling through the Amazon The local tribes waved
 I was in a suit and a sombrero
 with a lemur calmly resting atop my shoulder guiding me.

critique 6

Her lips are copper wire by Jean Toomer is a very interesting poem. I like the poets use of substitutes in the poem, the way the imagery reflects two bodies intertangled metaphorically. I think that the poet is trying to incite the feeling of touch and excitement through her words. The image of a cityscape is also something that interested me; houses, wire, and lamp-posts made me think of a street corner at night. The last line is the most intense for me as it builds to the kiss. Removing the tape is something that seems so off putting but realistic in the scene of the poem. Overall I like Toomer's and would like to read more.

Exercise 6

whirling stars reflect
when hollow rhythms shift
the clock ticks.
fingers slap and vibrate
 then your ears perk up
  Clicking like a light switch
    Now you're somewhere else
 Safe in the numbers
oscillating carelessly in thin air.
ringing continuously in my mind
the melody that I understand now
waves and walls keep things out
but they can also keep them in.

exercise 5

There are many people that still believe
The world is coming to it end
Is this something fully perceived
or is it just something hidden to our minds

We are quickly persuaded to thought
faster than we change how we feel
I'd rather walk than run
if were headed off the edge of a cliff

Jump, It's all you know to do
how else can you truly be free
Sometimes you have to choose
Even if there is only one option

The world can only be what we call it
what right does it have to poop out now
Oops, I think we killed it. overload.
All systems offline. Back to square one.

Exercise 10

Delphine and Chad are standing in an empty waiting room while Delphine sits in the bumpy waiting room chair furiously knitting, Chad paces the room anxiously looking as if he's about to scream.

Chad: (mumbling) I can't believe this..incredible... Delphine this is so outrageous

Delphine: (cutting him off without looking up) This would never be an issue if it weren't for you!

The waiting room door opens abruptly


Chad: (he turns to the door) Do you have the results?

A preoccupied looking receptionist motions for them to come in

Delphine gets up and they follow her in to the doctors office

Delphine: fine then. let's see what the damage is.

Chad: (scratching his forehead) Well, Ill hope you're happy now

They follow the nurse to the check out desk where Chad is handed some test results and a bill.

Chad: Jesus Christ, this can't be right...( he looks aside to Delphine)

Delphine cranes her neck to glance at the test result

Delphine: Ok... so I'm not pregnant...well, I could've sworn- wait maybe

Chad: I don't know what to tell you, I think this is a sign. Now isn't the right time for us.

(Chad shuffles over to look at the check and winces)
(Delphine glances at the ball and then grabs it)

Delphine: What?! When, why is there a $500 bill for Viagra and I'm not even pregnant!! WHAT!?? Stupid, stupid, stupid... I should have listened to my parents hey were right about you...
(delphine looks down and shakes her head angrily)
Chad: I have something to tell you

Delphine: What is it now, you going to complain some more? go do it. It's not like I don't hear it everyday.

Chad: I'm not going to complain this is my fault, What you need to know is--

Delphine: WHAT! What could you say thats that damn important that I don't already know!

Chad: I was born a woman.

Delphine stands there blankly and here eyes glaze over, she looks down and begins to contort her face.

Delphine: I have something to tell you too, I'm a Lesbian.

they both look off and then their eyes meet and they both smile.

(Delphine for the first time in a while looks genuinely happy, although it is totally unfitting)
Chad looks back at her mirroring her joy and they both look like they're about to explode.

Chad and Delphine:( Join hands lovingly and scream) SEX CHANGE MARRIAGE!!!

exercise 12

Here is a screenplay adaptation of Strays by Mark Richard. I didn't really understand the purpose of the story but I did enjoy it, I took several liberties in shortening it but didn't try and get too radical. ignore and poor formatting in my screenplay format I had a few technical difficulties.

FAde In:

Master Shot 1 Zoom In pan house

Ext-Frontyard/house-day

The camera cues in on the rickety old and disheveled home of a white trash family, impoverished and stricken with lunacy. Two boys are playing in the yard by some stray dogs, which are hiding under the shade of the house floorboards. Boy 1 is older and more aggressive than boy 2. They walk towards the stray dogs. Boy 1 stomps brashly.

Boy 1

Look at that durn dog, Lets catch it and train it.

Boy 2

Ok. Lets git’ it!

Boy 1

(Boy 1 runs after the dog and a car is seen coming nearer to the house from a distance. The car is rickety and almost out of gas, fuming and smoking grossly.)

Scene 2.

The janky car pulls up to the house and crashes over some window screens as it pulls up. The windows of the house are all open so the father of boy 1&2 runs out and starts hollerin’ aggressively at the impudent UNCLE TRASH.

Ext-doorway/yard-mid afternoon

              

Father

WHAT IN THE HERRLLL ARRRE YOU DOIN’ WOMAN

Total chaos, dogs bark wildly the boys yell and uncle trash stands there confused and answers quickly.

uncle trash 

I brought yer the car. Sorry about runnin’ over that stuff.

Father

IVE HAD IT!!!

(he runs inside and grabs a bottle)

Wife

Whuts goin’ on out there-e

Uncle trash

I brought the car Darlin’

(Father and his wife make a commotion in the house the BOTTLE breaks and Wife comes crashing out of the house with a hobo sack and a broken bottle that she throws onto the ground.

The Wife runs out into the cornfields and disappears in seconds. The father gets in the car and the tires squeal as he rides off leaving clouds of black smoke. Uncle trash goes into the bedroom and passes out snoring raucously. The boys are left standing in the yard by themselves.

Scene 3 isolation with the Uncle

Ext-yard-day

Uncle Trash

Booys’ where are ya? you got any cards?

     Boy 1

Running around wrecklessly

          I got some cards, lets play nickel poker

               Boy 2

          I’ll go get some money from inside

(The camera pans to them playing cards on the stoop of the rickety home, Uncle Trash grins and laughs while the boys groan and cover their faces. Uncle Trash takes all their money and laughs)

Uncle Trash

Well boys I guess I’m off to the bar, Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.

(Camera cuts to shot of the sun going down and then cuts to the dogs rustling as the kids play and try and capture a dog.)

EXT-Montage-Dusk

(Two Months pass, Bluegrass cover of “just the two of us” plays in the background while the children run wild alone in the middle of bufu Kansas just being raised like stray dogs who live under hillbilly hovels.)

Ext-Yard-day

fades out and in upside down to boy1 standing over boy2 laying on the ground

Boy1

Lets catch that dog

(He kicks boy2 in the shoulder

Boy2

AARYYY uffgh.

(grunts and rolls and pops up) Lets Do IT!! ARARAHHH

BOY1

GET THE DUMB ONE

The boys sprint to the dogs and tackle one

Boy two grabs a rope before the stinky dog can get away and then he hogties it.

  BOY2

          IT’S STINKKY!!

                     BOY1

          We should wash it

BOY1 runs to get something from inside the house. He runs back out while Boy2 fashions a leash onto the stray dog and they prepare to wash it.

                     BOY1

     All we got is bugspray so lets warsh him with this.

(they wash h

im with the bugspray as the matted and dirty hair lathers into a foam)

                     BOY2

          Now he’s clean but he don’t smell good

(Uncle trash is seen walkin drunkenly stumbling up to the ratty yard by the house.

UNCLE TRASH

          Hey Boys, yall kids wanna play some poker again

          Go get your piggy bank.

The Boy1 runs inside to go get their money. Uncle Trash flicks his cigarette but near the dog and it tries to lick it when in it immediately bursts into flames

The dog sprints like a fireball under the house and the house explodes into flames. Flaming stray dogs jart around yelping and then camera zooms out.

Fade Out:

The End

Critique 5

combined poetry is really cool, like phantoms in pimp suits and scooby dooby doo.

What is this difference we draw between exercise,
and critique; exercising is a form of critique.
critique is a form of exercising practice.
Practice is exercise, thats how the game is played.

Playing around with exercises is a form of critique.
Watching the form and function is a good way to practice.
If you practice your critiques and exercises enough, good.
good critiques come when you exercise good practice in them.

Stop, please don't repeat what you were just going on about.
We're talking about practice, critique and exercise.
Not a game, were talking about practice but really repetition.
Allen Iverson knows best about practice, or does he?

If you don't practice or exercise, can you really be an answer?
to the game, like Allen I. I don't know but he was just talking about practice.
It's kind of like playoffs too, if you don't practice repetition,
Playoffs? Playoffs? you talkin' bout playoffs? PLAYOFFS!!??

Haiku take 2

Hiding tiger cub,

flopping like an ocean wave

comma beautiful

exercise 2 haiku

Crocodile hunter crocodile haiku coming at you hot. 

Duck, Duck, Crocodile
Oh God! Run! A CROCODILE!
Dundee's Dead. Crikey.

Critique 3

William Carlos Williams, or C-Dub as I call him has a cool style that many people can identify with.
I don't really care for it as much as I used to, but I have been force fed peaches and red wheelbarrows for too long now. I enjoy the imagery of his writing and the free association of words and format that he utilizes. For me personally though, I am a big fan of radical poetry and hybrid poetry. So after seeing so much of Williams work over and over through my classes, I am no longer dazzled by his work like I used to be. I wish I could go back... back when wheelbarrows were cool. I use to love dem' wheelbarrows.

Exercise 4

Elegy to hat guy

It seems as if its been a long time-- hat guy.
so many people seemed not to know you well,
I remember you. Your hands, your drugs.

Hat guy, where did you go.
How did you get there, and who were you with.
Do you remember when we would play guitar hat guy?
You were gay for John Mayer, but that's ok hat guy.

I think you really should stop fighting now, hat guy.
You have smeared chocolate cake on the door.
Hat guy clean your room!
It smells like dick.

Do you remember when you thought you were a penguin?
Hat guy, why did you think you were a penguin.
It's okay hat guy I understand your struggle.
You can be a penguin now, if that's what you want.

Critique 4

I am a big fan of poetry, I like reading it. I like to write it, and enjoy learning about it.
One thing I didn't like about elegy writing was the disconnection I felt in some of the poetry.
Elegies are by no means lacking emotion or passion, distress whichever feeling they have, these elements are certainly there. I feel as if there is a difference of aim from an elegy as compared to a mournful poem of lonesomeness. I don't know exactly what that tiny change is, but I am going to find out.

Exercise 3

 I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox - William Carlos Williams

William Carlos Williams has a really interesting style; it's also extremely plain 

jane and boring to some of his readers.

Here is my parody of his poem, This is Just To Say...

I just wanted 

To say that

I drank your tequila

Your Liqour tasted

extremely expensive

but I don't care

I also ate 

Your Bagel Bites

Sorry I'm not Sorry

I tried to present my lines in the same manner of syllables and represent a 

mirror image of Williams 3 stanzas.Honestly, I don't know why anyone would   keep plums in an icebox. Ice box is also two words but Williams doesn't pay    much attention to grammar, so neither did I. I left the lines open ended to 

leave a false sense of spacing despite the lack of punctuation. 

Opening the Cage: 14 Variations on 14 Words

"I have nothing to say and I am saying it and that is poetry." — John Cage

I thought that there was a lot of meaning in the 14 words and the arrangement used in this poem. On the other hand I felt that it was so indecipherable that there was very little meaning I could derive from the actual lines of the poem. John Cage's quote is what displays the message and focus of this literature to me. The idea of experimental poetry and art is something that is very interesting and has a great possibility to be popular. I don't like how there was no punctuation in the poem, but that also leads us to examine each word as letters and sounds. In the end I only found the message to show us that possibilities in literature are fully up to the author, we as writers have the choice to do whatever we want. It doesn't really matter what you or me think, you can disagree, but the expression of the poem is connected to the author who puts a part of themselves into writing it. 

The hardest part for me is figuring whats creative and whats just chaos. I can be in the mood to write a paragraph, but when that mood dies I have no feelings for the words I have just written. I deleted my previous post because it was way too shitty and drunkenly written. I probably will put a pretty picture at the end of this post to make myself feel better about my writing today too though... What do people blog about these days now? I could try and say that a music or fashion blog would be really artsy and creative yet at the same time there is nothing creative about displaying another piece of creativity and analyzing it like an amateur.


I wish that the tab key worked for Blogger...

Because I have no idea where my rambling words will bring you and what value they may hold with you I will give you this. I am no expert on anything blog oriented, I don't think blogging is that cool but I do think it has its place. So, I will share a song, or new original song for every post I feel has no purpose other than to be a journal entry filled with my personal ennui.

Here is a Song by the legendary Kurt Cobain (Kirko Bangz)

I have literally listened to this song 20-50 times in the past 2 days.( and its not even that bangin')